


Logolepsy

by orphan_account



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Freewood - Freeform, Gay Sex, High School AU, M/M, RageHappy, Ryvin, Smut, english teacher gavin, mature - Freeform, teacher!gavin, teacher!ryan, theater director ryan, theater teacher ryan, you may need to look up a few of the words for this one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 20:50:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1662002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Logolepsy-A fascination or obsession with words. </p><p>Gavin is the new English teacher at an American high school, and if the rude students and teachers weren't enough to drive him crazy, he may have just accidentally fallen in love with the Theater Director, Ryan Haywood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Logolepsy

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This was a request on my tumblr (alittlebitgayandmore.tumblr.com) so ayy!

Man did Gavin regret transferring.  
  
When he'd been offered a new job as an English teacher at an American high school, he'd readily left England for the exciting new opportunity; he'd spent days researching everything about the American education system and was honestly more than just a little excited for the change. He saw it as starting a new life, beginning a career that belonged to him and made him happy. His parents had always said he was wasting his life becoming a teacher, and he was prepared to prove them wrong.  
  
If anyone had gotten proven wrong, however, it was Gavin. First of all, he'd joined the school in early November, so student-teacher acquaintanceship had already been formed with everyone but him. He was at a disadvantage, sure, but he certainly wasn't going to let that get him down when he entered the building on his first day, enjoying the surprisingly warm breeze of the Texas air. He'd came in earlier than necessary, applying finishing touches to his room and making sure everything was just right for his new students. Once the bell had rang, the children (well, they were Seniors actually so young adults) trudged in, some animatedly talking to one another but most in a Monday-morning haze of nearly zombie-like qualities.  
  
"Good morning, class! I know you've had quite a few substitutes in the past couple weeks, but I am your new permanent teacher." He smiled brightly at them, unperturbed when he was met with less-than-amiable feedback; actually, he was met with no feedback at all. He cleared his throat, trying once more as he picked up a marker and began scrawling on the white board. "My name is Mr. Free, and I just came here from Oxfordshire, England. I am also taking control of the soccer team, and I'd highly encourage both boys and girls to sign up." He smiled charmingly at them, pleased to see a blushing girl nod her head. He was a young, attractive man and he knew how to use it to his advantage.  
  
"Of course he's teaching soccer. He's a foreigner." The offside comment was muttered by a male voice in the back and Gavin promptly ignored it, pushing forward.  
  
"Today I'd like to take it easy on you. I know you all likely have a firm grasp of who everyone is, but I'm, unfortunately, new. So, I'd like to get to know you better!" There were muffled groans as the students realized where this was going. "I know, it's not very exciting, but it's better than doing work! Now, I want all of you to get out a slip of paper and a pencil."  
  
"Do we have to? I mean, couldn't we just take a nap?" A smirking boy drawled, followed by some hums of agreement and giggles. There was always that one kid, Gavin knew, that one damn kid that made the same exact joke that was never funny to begin with.  
  
"Sorry, but we have to!" Gavin spoke in a chipper tune, ignoring the pang of annoyance as he realized that he was likely that same kid when he was in high school; becoming a teacher certainly changed his outlook on what was funny in the classroom. "Now, on this paper, I'd like you to write... Bloody Hell, wait a tick, I have it here-Ah, found it! I'd like you to write your name, age, favourite animal, some hobbies you enjoy, and your biggest fear. Afterwards, I will collect them and read off everything but the person's name and age, and we can try to guess who is who!" He was proud of himself for coming up with the game, and even received positive noises from a few of the girls.  
  
"Sounds fuckin' lame." Whispered a boy with long hair and Gavin once again ignored it.  
  
"Uh, Mr. Free? What if we don't have a phobia?" A girl asked and Gavin grinned at her.  
  
"Everyone has a phobia, I'm sure. It can be the basics, such as spiders and snakes, or more obscure ones, such as the fear of fear itself, the fear of a never-ending afterlife in a non-existential void, or maybe... fingers." He wriggled the long, tan digits in front of his own face with a goofy smile and the girl giggled. "We all have a fear, I'm certain, even if we don't wish to admit it."  
  
The class fell silent, excusing the occasional whisper, and Gavin took a minute to look around and study the faces he was going to be seeing nearly daily for the next seven months. "Oh! No hoods in the classroom." He said, noticing a boy with strawberry blond hair and a smug face and the kid made a show of scowling as he removed it with more force than necessary. Gavin rolled his eyes, making a mental note to keep an eye on that student as he began collecting papers. When he glanced at everyone to be sure he had all of them, he once again noticed the kid had put his hood on again.  
  
"Excuse me, the no hood rule still applies three minutes later." He said, and this time the kid muttered something that made his friends snicker at him as he did as he was told. "Right, now we're going t-"  
  
"Can I go to the bathroom?" The hoodie kid interrupted him and Gavin inhaled once before turning.  
  
"No, you may not. After we are done you can, and I'd appreciate if you didn't interrupt me."  
  
"I need to go now."  
  
"You'll have to wait."  
  
"I'm gonna piss my pants!" The boy exclaimed and there was laughter scattered among the students. Gavin didn't relent, however.  
  
"Well I guess you'll just have to pee yourself then." The boy stood and began walking towards the door. "Excuse you, I didn't give you permission to leave!"  
  
"Yeah, well I'm gonna piss my pants." His hand was on the knob now and Gavin gritted his teeth.  
  
"If you leave, you're getting written up."   
  
The boy turned to face him. "Fuck you, foreign asshole. I don't give a fuck." And then he was gone, slamming the door behind him.  
  
Great first day, Gavin thought to himself as his face flushed with embarrassment. Some students flashed him sympathetic looks and he acknowledged them with a small smile before picking up his class phone and dialing the number of the office. He paused with it in his hand, sighing. "Does anyone know his name?"  
  
-  
  
Okay, so first block hadn't gone as he planned. Hardly anyone had actually tried to participate in his little game and it'd been over quick, leaving him with the task of filling the following hour with games that had many griping and cursing.  
  
Second block was his planning, however, and he readily took the chance to escape towards the break room, coffee on his mind. He slid in and waved cheerily at the few teachers that were already in there, sipping on the hot nectar and chatting about teacher-y things. Finally, he thought, he was at home with other individuals that had dedicated their lives to education.   
  
With mug in hand, he approached the small group, not really recognizing any of them.  
  
"Yeah, and I think I'm starting to get sick." One of the teachers finished, and Gavin perked up.  
  
"Oh! You know how I handle that?" The Brit butted in, smiling brightly when eyes turned to him. Now was his time to make a good first impression. "What I do is, you know that initial feeling of grogginess you get before you get sick and how your mind is just all over the gaff? I just decide 'nope, I'm not doing it' and I don't give in, and I'm better the next day. You just can't give in, mate." He offered, expecting laughter or interested replies, and was met with looks of confusion and annoyance.  
  
"That's not how sickness works. Who are you even?" The first teacher asked and Gavin deflated.  
  
"I'm, uh, I'm Gavin Free. I'm the new English teacher. Sorry, I made a right mong of myself there." He chuckled nervously, cheeks tinging pink, and the others just stared at him. "I should... probably be getting back to my lesson plan." He made a dismissive motion with his hand before turning on his heel and rushing towards the door, but not before hearing what they whispered.  
  
"He's an English teacher? With that intelligence? Looks like the school will just hire anyone nowadays."  
  
-  
  
Ah, soccer practice. Even if everything else sucked, he was certain this would be his time to shine. He'd already met with the team a couple times before and they were all bright, promising, and just what he needed to pep himself up again.  
  
Except he'd be damned if half his team wasn't missing.  
  
"Where in the bloody Hell are Tuggey, Denecour, Castillo, and Jenzen?" He yelled to the others, most of them shrugging.  
  
"I think they're in theater practice right now." A kid on the side supplied, and Gavin clenched his fists.  
  
"Wait here, the lot of you." And then he was marching off the field and towards the school. He'd had a shitty enough day, it was all boiling over, and he was GOING to return with the rest of the team if it killed him. He slammed the door open without care and stomped toward the stage where children were scurrying around, setting things up to practice a scene, and the props suggested they were doing Grease, or at least something from that time period.  
  
"LINDSAY, CALEB, JJ, AND KDIN!" His voice rang through the auditorium and several heads turned, followed by footsteps and the appearance of said kids. "What in bloody Hell do you think you're doing?!" He scolded and they shuffled towards him, looking confused yet guilty.  
  
"Is there a problem, Mister...?" A deep, smooth speaker sounded before an older man appeared. He was tall and muscular with swoopy, sandy blond hair and sapphire eyes that shone incredibly bright in the spotlight of the stage he stood upon, greatly resembling some imperfect, fallen Greek God. Gavin was pretty sure he stopped breathing.  
  
If love at first sight was an actual thing, the Brit was feeling it as the other man approached him, eyebrow cocked and soft smile on his face. His heart was racing in his ears and he had the strong urge to just fall down on his face and not move for an eternity, but the man was looking at him with those eyes and asking his name and the only thing that registered in Gavin's mind was that he was supposed to be angry about something, so he was.  
  
"My name is Gavin, Gavin Free." He introduced himself for the umpteenth time that day, but it was more bitter. "I'm the new English teacher and soccer coach, and I believe that you've stolen a good chunk of my team!" The words were spit out and the other looked alarmed by the hostility.  
  
"Well, Mr. Free, my name is Ryan. I'm the theater director here, and I had no idea of any pre-existing plans that my little greasers here had." He looked at them with a smirk and rolled his eyes when they muttered apologies of 'Sorry, Mr. Haywood'. "Unfortunately, JJ is the lead and the others are extremely important supporting characters, so I will be needing them today." He actually looked as if he felt bad for it, and guilt ate at the younger teacher's conscious. "However, I'd be more than happy to work out a schedule with you, Mr. Free."   
  
"Yeah, well we ought to! Can't have a proper bloody practice without them." Gavin furrowed his brow and gave one final huff before leaving without another word, fighting the urge to spare a glance back at the other.  
  
Halfway back to the field, he realized what a twat he'd been. He considered turning back and apologizing, but the startling amount of feelings he'd had upon seeing the man were making him annoyed with himself as well as Ryan so he decided it best the other disliked him.  
  
"Now..." He grumbled, looking at the sparse amount of players in front of him. "Let's practice our kicks."  
  
-  
  
When had he become the laughingstock of the school?  
  
Gavin had plenty of amour-propre and the snide comments and blatant disregard by both students and teachers alike were certainly beginning to eat at him. He wasn't stupid, was he? Sure, he possessed a different way of going about things, but it wasn't from ignorance or stupidity.  
  
Then, of course, there was the matter of the theater teacher. He still hadn't met with him, having chosen to stay away from him for a few days to choke down the weird feeling of unconditional love that had rose from the pit of his stomach like bile upon seeing the handsome guy. Overall, he wished he was back in England, or maybe back at the University to pick a different damn major.  
  
Five days in and another practice that had him missing a good chunk of his team, he finally decided to talk to Ryan because the soccer team was honestly the only thing that wasn't totally terrible about being there. He ended practice early with promise of a better one next time and made his way to the theater in a rather unenthusiastic way.   
  
Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he groaned. He hadn't been sleeping well for the past few days and it showed; his tan skin looked more ashy, dark circles had formed under his eyes, posture was a thing of the past and he had a general aura of pathetic defeat. So when he saw Ryan standing there in the center of the stage in a form-fitting t-shirt, directing kids and looking just as radiant as ever, and those feelings once again surfaced, he genuinely thought about locking himself in the bathroom and refusing to come out ever again. Ryan noticed him just as Gavin started to consider walking back out and smiled, squinting to see his outline from where he stood in the dark audience pit.  
  
"Mr. Free, is that you?" He called, motioning for the scrawnier man to join him, and Gavin gritted his teeth.  
  
"It is, Mr. Haywood. I thought I'd just pop in and have a little chat with you." He tried to put any sort of exuberance into his voice but the tone fell flat even in his own weary ears.  
  
"Please, call me Ryan." The older man offered as Gavin made his way into the light of the stage, blinking several times at the sudden change. Upon seeing the Brit closer, Ryan's face fell to one of concern. "Are you alright, Mr. Free? You look ill."  
  
"Just a tad languescent. Nothing to worry about." Gavin responded, crossing his arms.  
  
"Well, let's take a seat then. We can talk while they rehearse." He motioned for Gavin to follow and the younger teacher yawned heavily as he did so, waving to the students he knew. Ryan led him to a small office, the windows large enough for him to see the stage from his desk. They sat across from one another and Gavin visibly sunk into the chair.  
  
"I'll admit, it's quite a shock to see you in this state. I vividly remember you being much more ebullient on our last meeting, albeit irked."  _His vocabulary is incredible._  Gavin noted to himself, frowning. He'd always had a fascination verging on fetish for extensive vocabulary, especially more obscure words, and the fact that it was Ryan using them only bothered him more.  
  
"I certainly was more ardent." He spoke shortly, fighting against his heavily-lidded eyes.  
  
"Y'know, Gavin, all formalities aside. If anyone is giving you trouble, you can talk to me." His pinpointing of the Brit's exact problems annoyed Gavin and his brow furrowed. He wasn't an emotional guy, it was kinda his trademark; goofy and happy and never really bugged by anything. The entire situation, both his sadness and infatuation, were setting his wits and nerves alike on end.  
  
"I'm perfectly fine, Ryan." He barked, closing within himself, and Ryan nodded his submission to Gavin's decision.  
  
"Very well. I suppose we should just discuss practices, then? Personally, I am open any nights, though I would very much like to have three practices during the weekdays, and I'd prefer after school considering I have a couple eager dogs to tend to." So he's single, Gavin noted before immediately chastising himself.  
  
"Two practices a week work fine for me, I suppose." The English teacher fought back a yawn, scratching at the back of his hand. "Should I then take Tuesdays and Thursdays?"  
  
"Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays work fine for me." Ryan smiled, and if Gavin weren't in such a perpetually foul mood he'd probably have made a joke about how it was like they were settling for custody. "I feel like we're a divorced couple." Ryan chuckled, voicing the other's thoughts, and the idea of being married to Ryan flashed through Gavin's mind and made him flush.  
  
"Certainly one way of looking at it." He groused, averting his eyes, but he could feel Ryan's puzzled eyes on him.  
  
"Gavin, have I done something to offend you?" This made the other's head snap back to the older man, squinting at him.  
  
"What makes you say that?" He asked, voice cautious, and Ryan made a face.  
  
"I'm just wondering. You seem to have a disliking for me." His head tilted to the side, disturbing his sandy blond locks, and Gavin's heart fluttered in an odd sort of way that only irritated him further.  
  
"I'm fine. I need to go now." He stood, wobbling slightly as his head swam, and he squeezed his eyes shut once before marching out the door.  
  
-  
  
Block party.  
  
As fun as it sounded, Gavin quickly found that the name was incredibly misleading. In reality, it was a bunch of teachers in a room with nothing but cheap coffee and doughnuts as the principal informed them of new policies and discussed problems that needed fixing. It was a waste of Gavin's planning block, honestly, and more than a little boring (especially since he was sitting in the back, alone). His head bobbed as he fell in and out of sleep, tired mind quitting on him every few minutes. He was like a living zombie and the only thing that kept him going was the reminder that it was Friday, and his hellacious second week would soon be over.  
  
"Only to be followed by hundreds more." He whispered bitterly to himself, fighting to keep his eyes open. His entire body ached with fatigue and overall depression, and he glanced around the room to busy himself. Ryan was there, he noticed, sitting near the front and chatting with a few other teachers as they waited for the principal to organize himself. Seeing him interacting so freely with others made Gavin's stomach knot up, and he suddenly realized just how nauseous he felt.   
  
"Hello everyone, and thanks for attending this block party!"  _It's mandatory._  Gavin groused to himself, tapping his fingers against the table to keep his mind even slightly busy. His vision blurred and he blinked once, a blink that apparently lasted longer than he thought because when he reopened his eyes, Matt was already talking about not letting students roam the halls.  
  
"Does anyone have any suggestions as to how we could limit the amount of kids skipping class?" Matt Hullum, man in charge, asked, and Gavin raised his hand; normally, after his first day, he tried to keep quiet, but his sleep-deprived mind was certain that his brilliant idea would put him in a more favourable light. "Mr. Free? I don't think I've heard anything from you for a while."  
  
Gavin gave him a wobbly smile before replying. "What if... What if we replaced hall passes with vests? We could make the students wear them when they're in the halls and could tell who wasn't supposed to be out." He nodded proudly as if agreeing with the intelligence of his own idea, but the reaction he'd expected didn't happen, as it so seldom did.  
  
"No kid is going to want to wear a vest."  
  
"How would we even keep them clean?"  
  
"That would be way too expensive."  
  
"Sounds unsanitary."  
  
The rebuttals echoed through the conference room, mocking Gavin and his idiocy. He shrunk in on himself, biting his lower lip.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mr. Free, but they're right. Any other ideas?" Hullum continued on and Gavin shook, eyes on the table. His stomach wambled, as if his their disapproval had an emetic effect on him and he rushed towards the door without warning, tripping and nearly falling in his haste to get to the nearest bathroom. Thankfully, the stalls were empty when he entered and he fell to his knees at the first one, emptying the contents of his stomach (mostly consisting of coffee and pastries), into the porcelain bowl. His chest heaved and hazel eyes stung with unwelcome tears as his body wretched with each heave, broken sobs escaping him whenever he could catch his breath.  
  
A soft touch on his back made him jump, but he didn't have time to investigate before another wave ran up him; he had to admit, though, the fingers carding gently through his golden brown hair were comforting, if not adding to the embarrassment already consuming him. When he'd finally finished, he sat back on his haunches and wiped his face with a piece of toilet paper before flushing the mess down and finally turning to whoever had come to help him.  
  
"R-Ryan?" He stuttered, throat burning. Great. As if things couldn't get any worse, the man that unknowingly held his heart had just watched him vomit.  
  
"Uh, hi. You looked pretty bad in there and then you ran out, and I don't think anyone noticed but I wanted to help." He stepped backwards out of the stall, giving Gavin his space as he ran the faucet and began washing his hands.  
  
"Of course nobody noticed. Everyone hates me." Gavin sighed, more to himself, and felt Ryan tap his shoulder.  
  
"Uh, gum?" He offered, and Gavin took it with a hum of thanks. "Listen, I don't think everyone hates you. They just... don't get what you're saying."  
  
"I don't need you to try and comfort me, okay? They hate me and they think I'm stupid. Maybe I am..." Ryan opened his mouth to say something but Gavin cut him off with a hand motion. "I'm not going to sit here and whine about my bloody problems with you. Just... Thanks for the gum." He shouldered past the other without another word, sitting back down at the meeting with the taste of mint, bile, and something much more bitter than either of those in his throat.  
  
-  
  
Practice, practice, practice.   
  
The team was going great, and Gavin was painfully thankful for it. It wasn't like he had anything else going for him. English class was okay, he supposed; he certainly had a small fan club of teenage girls fawning over him, but he was likely to get cursed out every day. He'd begun eating lunch and spending any free time alone in his room, and the bags under his eyes made his face look incredibly bleak. Ryan had tried talking to him a couple times, but Gavin had made a point to avoid him or snap at him and the drama teacher had soon relented.  
  
It's like he'd lost all his drive for education in only a month and the only thing keeping him going through the insomnia and lack of interest were nights spent browsing sites about obscure words and soccer practice. His team was dedicated, strong, and they all respected him, and that made him more than happy when he was there. Some might say lively, even.  
  
"Okay, team! The game against our school's rival is only a couple months away, so I want to see some real effort out there!" He grinned brightly at the cheers he received, wiping his sweaty brow. It was a little chilly, yeah, but they'd been running quite a bit and their body temperatures were high. "This time, I want you to get the ball past me."   
  
Yes. Soccer was his thing. He hopped on the balls of his feet as he guarded the goal, each student staring him down with determination and excitement. First attempt, blocked. Second, attempt, blocked again. Blood coursed through Gavin's body, waking his brain as he caught the ball with ease once again. "You'll have to get up pretty early in the morning to trick me with that move, Narvaez!" He yelled happily, tossing the ball back for the next attempt and bracing himself.  
  
He looked around at his surroundings, taking them in, and he noticed a body that shouldn't be there. Ryan stood on the sidelines, an odd sort of smile on his face, and it made Gavin pause. The ball zoomed past him into the goal and Lindsay screamed her celebration, pumping her fist into the air. "Good job, Tuggey! Everyone run a few laps and then take five." He ordered and he walked towards the edge, grimacing at how attractive Ryan looked in a sweater and baggy jeans.  
  
"Can I help you, Mr. Haywood?"  
  
"Please, Gavin, call me Ryan." His warm smile pierced through Gavin's attempt at a sour mood and it only made his scowl deepen.  
  
"What is it that you need, Ryan?" He asked, crossing his arms.  
  
"Y'know, you looked really happy out there. I haven't seen you like that since the first day I met you." The older man remarked and Gavin hoped his flushing face could be accounted to exertion. "It's nice, seeing you happy like that."  
  
"Is there any particular reason for this visit or did you come here strictly for flattery reasons?" Gavin chuntered and Ryan laughed quietly.  
  
"I actually came here to ask JJ a question. And I figured you might want tickets to see your students perform." He offered two tickets up teasingly and Gavin hesitated before snatching one of them.  
  
"I don't need the second one. Thank you, though. How much do I owe you?"  
  
"Don't be silly," Ryan waved his hand dismissively, shoving the spare paper back into his pocket with a quirk of his eyebrow. "It's free."  
  
"Ryan, I insist-"  
  
"Well, then it's a shame that I  _persist_ , isn't it?" Ryan smirked at Gavin's sour look. "Now, is it okay if I borrow JJ for a moment?" The Brit nodded and Ryan thanked him before trotting off in the boy' direction; and maybe Gavin's eyes flitted to his ass for just a second.  
  
-  
  
So maybe he dressed up a little nicer than usual, especially for a high school play, and maybe it was with the sole intention of capturing Ryan's attention, but who could honestly prove that?  
  
Ryan was standing by the door, greeting guests as they entered, and his smile widened when he saw Gavin. "You look psychagogic tonight, Gavin." He remarked, and Gavin rolled his eyes.  
  
"Did you buy a word-of-the-day calendar or something?" He snorted and Ryan smirked.  
  
"Please, Gavin. Simply because I'm a theater teacher does not mean I lack a firm grasp of the English language. On the contrary..." He leaned in a bit, lowering his voice. "I'm quite fond of it." Gavin swallowed hard, his hand twitching.  
  
"Well, I should hope so, considering you're an educator. I imagine language has quite a bit to do with plays and their dialogue." And with that, he walked away, blushing a deep red.  
  
The lights dimmed, the curtains opened, and the play was... incredible. West Side Story was the name of the play and Gavin had never seen it, but it was amazing. JJ was the lead boy, a soft boy in love with a rivaling gang, and his 'thugs' happened to be the rest of his soccer team. The lead girl, a pretty senior named Arryn Zech, was recognizable as a student he got along well with in his third block, and he was surprised to hear her sing so beautifully. Overall, everything was perfect: the set, the choreography, the acting, it was all just... perfect. He'd never been more proud of his team and he was certain that, when the play was over, he was clapping the loudest.  
  
"You were top!" Gavin squealed when he finally met them out in the hall, all lined up in their costumes and holding flowers from their parents. "Best play I've ever seen!"  
  
"Thank's Mr. Free!" Lindsay pulled him into a big hug, a wide grin on her face.  
  
"It really was amazing." Ryan's deep voice startled Gavin, and his face flushed noticeably. Lindsay glanced from Gavin to Ryan before her smile became more smug.  
  
"We couldn't have done it without you, Mr. Haywood." Caleb praised and the others hummed their agreement.  
  
"No, no. This was all you, and it was spectacular."   
  
"Mr. Haywood, don't you have something important to talk about with Gavin?" Lindsay suddenly interrupted, and the two teachers gave her a confused look.  
  
"You do?"  
  
"I do?"   
  
"You do." Lindsay urged and Ryan's sapphire eyes widened, a soft 'ah' of understanding escaping his lips.  
  
"Oh yes. I nearly forgot, thank you Lindsay. Gavin, I'd very much appreciate if you would stick around while I tend to the actors and parents. Perhaps you can wait in my office?" He offered and Gavin furrowed his brow before agreeing; he missed the sly look shared between Lindsay and Ryan.  
  
Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.   
  
It was the name of the game and he wasn't a very good player. He poked around Ryan's desk, not really in a 'searching-through-documents' way, more of a 'playing-with-the-paperweight' way. He sat down abruptly when the door cracked open around twenty minutes later, looking remarkably like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.  
  
"Hello, Gavin. It's been a while since I've seen you in here." Ryan mused, sitting across from him as he had nearly two months previously.  
  
"I suppose it has. Though, this time, I don't know why I'm here."  
  
"Why do you dislike me?" Ryan was straightforward and it threw Gavin off-guard.  
  
"I-I... um.."  
  
"See, it's been bugging me. And that's odd, because I'm not easily bothered by one's opinion of me, you see. Maybe it's because I feel as if you don't really dislike me, like there's some ulterior motive, or maybe it's because I am so incredibly intrigued by your brain. I'm really not sure." Ryan said in a slightly distressed tone, and Gavin soaked in what he'd said.  
  
"Why would you be intrigued by me?" He asked, the particular phrase jutting out at him.  
  
"It's different, I suppose. Your thought process and ideas, your weird nearly-philosophical questions and theories, they're very... unexpected. I don't mean that as in I wouldn't expect such ideas from someone so stupid. On the contrary, you're fantastically intelligent. Just unexpected in general." He paused to smile for a moment. "But the more pressing matter here is why you have kindled this dislike towards me."   
  
Ryan leaned forward, crossing his arms on his desk as he focused all of his attention on the younger man. "And please, be honest."  
  
He was backed in a corner, breathing becoming more shallow, and Ryan's eyes on him were making it impossible to focus enough to come up with any semblance of a lie, so he didn't.  
  
"Because... I can't figure out how I feel about you." He admitted, and Ryan's right eyebrow cocked up, coaxing him to continue, and now that Gavin had admitted it he couldn't stop talking; like a running faucet, words poured from his mouth. "And it's irritating because from the moment I bloody saw you, I had this feeling of intoxication. And every bloody person in this school seems to have it out for me but you, and I have no idea why, even though I'm so rude to you, you continue to show me just how damn perfect you are but it drives me wild in the worst and best sort of way. Why don't you hate me, dammit?!" He huffed his annoyance, glaring at Ryan.  
  
Ryan blinked once.  
  
Twice.  
  
Three times.  
  
And then he laughed. He laughed loud and freely, clutching at his sides and chortling until his eyes were wet with tears of mirth. "Don't laugh at me! I just confessed my love for you, bloody idiot!" Gavin gritted, and the theater teacher fought to control his laughter as he stood and made his way around the desk to better face Gavin. The Brit stood, too, partially expecting to get punched.  
  
"I... I am so sorry." Ryan gasped, still snickering. "I just can't fucking believe that you can be so smart and so dumb."  
  
Gavin's face reddened with anger and embarrassment, hands clenched into fists at his side. "Insulting my damn intelligence really isn-" He was cut off when Ryan leaned in and kissed him, a soft, chaste kiss that held the sole purpose of shutting him up, and it did it's job well.  
  
"Mr. Free, I am very much fond of you, and I'd like if I could kiss you more fervently, should you permit it." He purred and Gavin nodded, not trusting his voice. Ryan's hand came to rest on Gavin's hip and cheek before he connected their lips again, this time with more pressure and less holding back. His tongue flicked out, a silent plea for entrance, and Gavin's lips parted to allow the pink muscles access to one another. A subtle motion of Ryan's face shifted the mood dramatically, and Gavin was soon grasping at the older man's hair, tugging on it as he was lifted to sit on the hard, wooden desk. He spread his legs and Ryan positioned himself between them, each breathing hard through their noses as the kiss became more nips and gasps than continuous contact.  
  
"I've been zatetic," Ryan hissed into Gavin's ear as he began to grind against him, and the contact coupled with his vocabulary made the Brit moan. "Over what you said, referring to your logolepsy." Both hands now gripped Gavin's sides, aiding the younger man in rubbing their lengths together, rough and fast. "And your obsession with words is as fascinating as you are intoxicating." He mouthed at Gavin's jaw as he spoke and the English teacher could do nothing but groan his approval. "Sinfully aphrodisiacal." A low whine escaped Gavin's throat and Ryan bit into his shoulder, soothing the pained area with his tongue.  
  
"God, Ryan, fuck me." Gavin whimpered, and Ryan flashed him a coquettish smirk.  
  
"You want me to take you here? To bend your pretty little self over this desk and fuck you raw?" His voice was a low growl that pierced right through Gavin and the hazel-eyed man's hips jerked forward as he nodded desperately. This was all he'd ever wanted, every fantasy he'd pushed out of his head and refused to acknowledge shooting back into his mind and overwhelming him with the pure, raw  _need_. Erotomania, he thought vaguely. Possibly concupiscence.  
  
"I have a cacoethes to fuck you, an irresistible urge to claim you as mine." Ryan simpered against Gavin's neck, lips trailing up to graze his jaw lightly. He tore away from the younger man in his arms and Gavin voiced his objection. "Patience. I know I have it here... somewhere... ah!" He pulled out a container of Vaseline, glaring at Gavin's amused look. "It's very useful for hydrating lips and soothing accidental cuts." He defended, sticking his tongue out when Gavin snickered. "You won't be laughing in a moment." He winked and Gavin's tanned face turned a darker shade of pink. "Shit. I don't have a condom."  
  
"My turn." Gavin rooted around in his admittedly too-skinny jeans and removed his wallet. It was Ryan's turn to laugh when Gavin removed the foil package. "Wot? It's always nice to be prepared."  
  
"What are you, sixteen?" Ryan murmured, returning to his spot as he pulled Gavin into a standing position.  
  
Gavin turned, pressing his ass against Ryan's clothed erection as he rubbed it against him teasingly. "Maybe. Maybe I'll grind on you like a horny teenager, Ryan." He was fairly certain the breathy moans escaping the older man's lips were enough to give him satyriasis, and he couldn't help but bend under the weight of his appetence.   
  
Ryan squeezed his ass before reaching around to undo them, leaning over the Brit and kissing the side of his neck. "You tantalize me, Gavin, in a very inequitable way." He growled, yanking the denim prison, along with Gavin's underwear, down past the younger's knees. His cock sprang out to rest against his abdomen, hot and flushed and so painfully hard.  
  
"You've been doing the same to me since day one. I sense it's only fair if I do it back, even for a short while." Gavin rebutted, gasping when Ryan's own bare rigidity was rubbed against his opening.  
  
"Au contrair, mon cheri. This will be neither short nor the last time we connect in such a fashion." He sibilated and Gavin heard the unscrewing of a cap before he was jumping as a cold, wet digit was pressed to circle his entrance. "Shhh. Just relax." Ryan dulcified him with sweet kisses and soft-spoken words as he wriggled in the first finger, slipping it in and out at a steady pace. When Gavin began to rock back into the touch, he added a second, scissoring ever-so-slightly at first, but becoming more confident with each subtle stretch and pull of his muscles. A third joined the others easily and Ryan hooked them, wickedly assaulting the younger's prostate with heavy petting until Gavin was whining loudly and squirming under him, begs for his cock inside of him making Ryan's length twitch.  
  
"Ready?" He asked, steadily rubbing his slicked, coated member over Gavin's hole, and the lad craned his head back to glare an obvious 'yes' at him. Ryan chuckled before beginning his slow plunge into Gavin, hands snaking up the younger's shirt and stroking his skin as he hitched up the fabric. When he'd bottomed out, he paused, allowing Gavin to adjust as he deosculated his slender back with his lips.  
  
"Please, Ryan." Gavin's voice broke as he waited, and that was all the theater teacher needed to pull back and slam into him with a wet smack. He set up a brutal speed immediately, fueled by Gavin's pleads for more.  
  
"Y-yes! Harder... ah, f-faster,  _harder_ , fuck... m-AHN  _RIGHT THERE!_ " Gavin made no show of being quiet as one hand gripped the desk and the other wrapped around his cock, pumping to match rhythm with each of Ryan's thrusts. The gent grunted his pleasure, moaning Gavin's name when it all became too much and he had to grab the other's shoulders just to keep himself grounded because  _fuck_  he felt like he was just going to float off into bliss.   
  
"I-I'm gonna... I'm c-cumming! Ryan!" Gavin almost screamed as he spurted onto the side of Ryan's desk, leaving streaks of milky white down the mahogany and over the laminated pictures of inspiration that often adorn the front of a teacher's work space. The tight heat of Gavin was too much and Ryan's spiraled into his own orgasm, spilling into the rubber barrier that separated them. He collapsed over Gavin, pressing his sweat-shone forehead against his shoulder blade as he gasped for air.  
  
"We could've been doing that sooner? Damn." Gavin panted and both of them laughed, wincing slightly as Ryan pulled out. He tied the condom and tossed it into the waste bin before covering it with a few scraps of paper.   
  
"You okay?" The older man smirked as he pulled up his pants to see Gavin still draped over the desk, unmoved.  
  
"Yeah. Gimme a sec." Detumescence, he thought. He groaned and Ryan walked around to kiss his lips playfully. With that incentive he drug himself to his feet, allowing the other to wipe down the front of the desk.  
  
"You got your cum on my poster about the arts." Ryan mock-grimaced as he scrubbed it clean, the soiled tissues joining the rest of the trash he vowed to take out when they left.  
  
"In my defense, you suggested the desk thing." Gavin was now fully-clothed again, excluding the slight bunching of his shirt on the left side, and Ryan wrapped his arms around him in a tired embrace. "So, does this mean I get to date you?"  
  
"Only if you get some sleep. And stop stressing over the other stupid teachers. They're all prissy assholes anyways." Ryan mumbled, nuzzling Gavin's neck.  
  
"Oi, I thought they were your friends!"  
  
"Oh, please. I talk to them because I work with them." Ryan rolled his eyes and smiled when he felt Gavin untense. "While I'm at it, a lot of the kids are assholes, too."  
  
"Whoo, you are just full of the vinegar." Gavin remarked teasingly and Ryan nipped his shoulder, eliciting a squawk.  
  
"Nah, I just think you shouldn't be so worried about what they think." They grinned at one another and Gavin noticed at their proximity that there were specks of robin's egg blue in his eyes. "Oh, and you know what I just thought of?"  
  
"What?" Gavin questioned, being startled from his new realization.  
  
"I now have Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays free." He kissed Gavin once, tongue teasing his bottom lip. "Perhaps you and I could fill them."  
  
And Gavin couldn't help but beam because  _man_ , was he glad he transferred.

**Author's Note:**

> Loved this shit? Hated it more than your nOTP? tell me why, tell me where i fucked up, i wanna hear it all! leave me comments and/or kudos, reading comments good and bad really brighten up my shitty little day ;)
> 
> Good artist? Bad artist? Never drawn? Make fanart anyways! I will cry. But happily. But I will seriously cry.


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